“‘Referendum J.’ probably was the judge who wrote the opinion,” said Grant grimly. He took off his hat, and the cooling breeze of the late afternoon played with his hair, without fluttering the curly, wiry red poll, turning light yellow with the years. “Well, whoever influenced the court–I’m glad that’s over. The men have been grumbling for a year and more because we couldn’t get the benefits of the law. But their suits are pending–and now they ought to have their money.”
As the car whined along through the prairie streets, Grant, who had started to speak twice, at last said abruptly, “I’ve got to cut loose.” He turned around so that his eyes could meet hers and went on: “Your father and George Brotherton and a lot of our people seem to think that we can patch 485things up–I mean this miserable profit system. They think by paying the workmen for accidents and with eight hours, a living wage, and all that sort of thing, we can work out the salvation of labor. I used to think that too; but it won’t do, Laura–I’ve gone clean to the end of that road, and there’s nothing in it. And I’m going to cut loose. That’s what I want to see you about. There’s nothing in this step-at-a-time business. I’m for the revolution!”
She showed clearly that she was surprised, and he seemed to find some opposition in her countenance, for he hurried on: “The Kingdom–I mean the Democracy of labor–is at hand; the day is at its dawn. I want to throw my weight for the coming of the Democracy.”
His voice was full of emotion as he cried:
“Laura–Laura, I know what you think; you want me to wait; you want me to help on the miserable patchwork job of repairing the profit system. But I tell you–I’m for the revolution, and with all the love in my heart–I’m going to throw myself into it!”
No one sat in the seat before them, as they whirled through the lanes leading to town, and he rested his head in his hand and put his elbow on the forward seat.
“Well, what do you think of it?” he asked, looking anxiously into her troubled face. “I have been feeling strongly now for a month–waiting to see you–also waiting to be dead sure of myself. Now I am sure!” The mad light in his eye and the zealot’s enthusiasm flaming in his battered face, made the woman pause a moment before she replied:
“Well,” she smiled as she spoke, “don’t you think you are rather rushing me off my feet? I’ve seen you coming up to it for some time–but I didn’t know you were so far along with your conviction.”
She paused and then: “Of course, Grant, the Socialists–I mean the revolutionary group–even the direct action people–have their proper place in the scheme of things–but, Grant–” she looked earnestly at him with an anxious face, “they are the scouts–the pioneers ahead of the main body of the troops! And, Grant,” she spoke sadly, “that’s a hard place–can’t you find enough fighting back with the main body of the troops–back with the army?”
486He beat the seat with his iron claw impatiently and cried: “No–no–I’m without baggage or equipment. I’m traveling light. I must go forward. They need me there. I must go where the real danger is. I must go to point the way.”